The absence of the jet skis has returned a zen like feel to Negril. The navigation of the shared waters has become a little less stressful. The calmness soothes. With the beach now awake in the foreground, we slipped into our sandy berth. A small group of locals had gathered to claim their goods. Beach walkers were detouring around us. The juice guy, two bottles held over his head, was shilling " JUICES!! MANGO, PAPPAYA, PINEAPPLE!!!!" A beach dog crept closer hoping for a handout.

I asked MyCaptain if there was something that I could do. He said no. Thanks. He turned back to his business. He took money from some, to give change to others, and I was impressed by his money handling dexterity. He could have held his own with any money changer in town. There was no bartering. The prices were silently agreed to.

I felt that we should have had a more personal goodbye ceremony. After all, we had just shared an incredible journey together. And we had returned relatively unscathed. There were no manly hugs and backslapping to share. I received only a nod reply to my " goodbye, thanks, that was awesome" so I turned and on rubbery legs started back to Treehouse